


Quel Esta

by Sabishiioni



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Tissue Warning, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:02:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabishiioni/pseuds/Sabishiioni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A final farewell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quel Esta

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit  
> Warnings: Not my usual writing  
> Follow Me:[Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: Inspired by three seconds in the Blog 11.  
> 

She walked through the cavernous hall, her footsteps making no sound. It was cool down here, but it was a different from her home. This was not a chill caused by evil, but rather by sorrow. Though she was elf-kind and not dwarf-kind, she could still feel the sadness wrapping around her like a shroud.

Tauriel shuddered at the unintentional analogy. Though it was appropriate for this place, she did not like it. It was too…final. She had seen death many times before the great battle and she was sure she would see more before she joined them in death or sailed to the Undying Land. The spawn of Ungoliant had dealt their fair share of death in the forest of her homeland which she had born witness to many times.

The elf warrior sighed. Her home. When had they allowed evil to become stronger than those that called it such? She had boldly asked that of her prince, yet his reply had been unsatisfactory to her.

Almost as unsatisfactory as this place. She knew dwarves lived, worked and eventually died in mines and great underground cities built into mountains. However, this was not a place for him. He was sunshine, warmth, fresh air. He was the wind, the rain, the very earth she stood upon. He was the hunt and he was _LIFE_.

This would be the last time she would ever be in his presence, this dwarf that had captured her heart. She understood that it had to be like this, for he was both a dwarf and a prince, yet her captured heart had rebelled at the thought. He should always be above ground where she was sure his laughter still echoed through Dale and Laketown and beyond. She knew she would still hear the mirth laced sound when she returned to the forest of her kin.

She paused at the stone entrance, trying to calm the storm of emotions that threatened to tear her apart. Sorrow was the main force in the tempest, for she knew what lay beyond those huge double doors, knew what the ceremonial guards stood for. Yet, there was also anger, for what she wanted had been taken from her forever by simple greed and gold lust. A hint of disgust topped everything off- it was hard to let go of decades of hatred for a race, even if it was one of that race that had stolen her affections.

She opened the doors and stepped silently into the room. It was not lit by torches as the hall had been but with sunlight directed into it by mirrors and amplified by crystals. The white stone and vaulted ceilings gave the room an arid feeling. The elf actually felt more comfortable in here.

Until she saw the stone sarcophagi.

There were three, all as white as the stone that surrounded them. They were undecorated as there had been no time and the three deaths were as unexpected as they were tragic. Three lives cut short by a sickness that consumed the line of Durin. A pair of lives wiped from Middle Earth before they could even know the joys of the home they had never known, but still had fought and died for.

The largest stone coffin stood in a pool of soft light. A great elvish sword lay across it and she recognized it as Orcrist, the sword of a dwarf king. The stone lid was engraved with runes which, while she could not read them, she remembered what she had been told by the kind old dwarf, Balin who had given her permission to come here. Tauriel was surprised at the pang of sorrow that cut across her armored chest as her long fingers traced the letters. The words cut into the stone simply stated, “Thorin son of Thrain Last King of the Line of Durin”.

This was not who she had come to see and moved around the stone tomb where the other two stood, perpendicular to Thorin’s. It did not surprise her that the uncle had been placed between the entrance and his beloved sister-sons. Even in death, he would protect his precious family.

These white coffins were nearly identical, only one letter different. Standing between them, the one to her right was that of the Heir Apparent, Fili. The one to her left was the one she had come to see.

Kili- her dwarf.

She laid the wild flowers she had picked that morning on the stone lid and gently traced the runes of his name, so similar to his brothers. She knew that dwarf culture put little stock in things that grew unless it was edible and put in a stew, but she liked to think that perhaps Kili was different. He was certainly different from his kin.

Even from the time she first laid eyes on him, she knew. For as much as she tried to resist, his charm slowly won her over. What had started as an interrogation ended up being a conversation on the merits of a long bow like she used to a smaller hunting bow that he favored. She returned to him several times more, each time pleasantly surprised by how knowledgeable he was on many various topics. When she had brought this observation up, he had merely stated that his brother was much brighter than him.

And while that may have been true, Fili was nowhere near as charming as his younger brother. At least not in her eyes. Kili had a quick wit to him that lashed out when she let her barbed tongue speak for her. Yet, even when angered, the young dwarf had a spark of teasing humor in his dark eyes.

Tauriel’s lips turned slightly upwards as she thought of those dark eyes. They were what caught her eye when the company of dwarves first appeared. They had appeared to be so defiant and strong but when she had really looked into them, she realized that it was only a mask. He had been frightened for his brother, his uncle and the rest of the company. Yet, she had not seen any fear for himself. Whether it was from his over-confidence in his abilities or a foolish lack of fear, she did not know.

And now, she never would.

She stood there for a moment, her words catching in her mouth like grains of desert sand. There were so many things that she wanted to tell this child of stone. She had thought she would have time after the battle as there had been no doubt in her mind that he would survive. The last descendants of Durin the Deathless would not fall in battle.

She had forgotten about their undying loyalty to their king and uncle.

Finally, the warrior went to one knee before the sarcophagus that held only the husk of the thief that had stolen her heart. Still, she prayed her words, though spoken in her language, would reach Kili in the Halls of Waiting, where he sat with his brother, uncle and father.

“ _Quel esta, mellon-nin_.” She bowed her head for a moment before standing again. Without looking back, Tauriel left the tomb, knowing she left her heart behind.


End file.
